Is There a Spiritual Mom or Dad You Wish You Could Still Thank?
- Maggie Wallem Rowe
- May 13
- 4 min read
AUDIO LETTER
“IF NOT FOR YOU, I would’ve been a bachelor!”
My gregarious husband, never shy, has a slight predilection for hyperbole when enthusiastic. But honestly? He wasn’t far wrong.
And he was not making this declaration to me, his wife of 49 years.
Last week, Mike and I spent four days in the city where we attended college in the early 70’s and later pastored for 16 years. The special occasion? Our 50th college reunion. The Golden Class of 2025 was gathering on campus once again to celebrate our 1975 commencement and all that we meant in each other’s lives.
We loved every minute of welcome receptions and photo sessions.
Campus tours and Conservatory concerts.
Breakfasts with friends and a Saturday night banquet for all. It didn’t matter who-knew-who back in the day. We were together again now, and grateful to be.
Most of our events were class-specific, but the college hosted a special luncheon Saturday for all returning alumni celebrating five-year reunions— from the 40th for the Class of ‘85 to the hardy few from the Class of 1950 who were back for their 75th!
As I threaded my way between tables, I started to squeeze past a lovely white-haired woman headed for one marked 1970 when I glanced at her nametag.
“Debbie!” I exclaimed. “Is it really you? You were my RA (resident assistant) my freshman year. I was the really needy one. Do you remember?”
She smiled broadly as we hugged. “Of course I do. You were one of my girls!”
We had not seen one another in 53 years.
Debbie Doud, now Caraher, was a senior that academic year of 1971-2. Five years older than the 40 freshmen women packed into first floor Fischer dorm, she had taken time off to do mission work overseas
Five years can be a lifetime when it comes to spiritual maturity.
As ready as I was to attend college, and despite my physically sturdy farm-girl constitution, I spent most of that first year sick.
Homesick. A practically terminal case. Only a few weeks in, I begged my parents to let me drop out and return home.
How does one explain an illness that’s purely emotional in origin? One with no rational basis, but whose presence colored nearly every day gray?
I wasn’t the only freshman who was homesick, but while fellow sufferers can empathize, they’re not equipped to help.
But on first floor Fischer, there lived a young woman whose door was always open. Debbie Doud.
I have no idea how many hours I spent with her. Sometimes we talked through my fears and tears. Sometimes she studied while I sat quietly, trembling arms wrapped around skinny legs, grateful to be in the presence of one who never judged me for my immaturity. Sometimes she offered thoughtful counsel.
But always, always she welcomed me in. She listened. She prayed. She loved me unconditionally.
Debbie was only five years older, but she became my first spiritual mother.
Spiritual moms come in many forms. Age is no prerequisite. A college woman can be a “mom” to a younger girl, while one in her 20’s or 30’s can mentor a woman new to the working world.
Deborah in the Old Testament was called a “mother in Israel” (Judges 5:7). Little to nothing is known of her husband Lappidoth, nor is there any mention of biological children. Yet as a judge, prophetess, and leader, Deborah’s role was spiritual mother to the nation.
Debbie may have been my first spiritual mom, but she was not my last.
For over 35 years, my wise friend Gail has mentored me in pastoral ministry. Jan, just a decade ahead of me, feeds my hungry soul weekly through her writing. Linda, one of my beloved sisters-in-law, reaches out regularly to ask how she can pray for me as she does countless others.
Spiritual parenthood certainly isn’t limited to women.
As I think of the Christian brothers who join us here most weeks, there’s Dick, now well into his 90’s, who continues to meet with younger men in person or via video chat just as my own husband does.
There’s Jon and Larry and Dan, men I highly respect who use their skills sharpened over decades to teach, coach, and offer professional services gratis. They serve as spiritual dads to many whose own fathers were absent, distant, or critical.
When I quite literally ran into Debbie, my former RA, I was a bit starstruck. We had stayed in touch for years but then lost one another in the passage of decades. To see her again and be able to thank her in person was huge for me.
Always gracious, Debbie demurred a bit, saying she didn’t feel she’d been that great a resident assistant. But for me and 39 other women on our floor, she was exactly the one we needed.
Were it not for Debbie’s kindness and support, I may well have dropped out of college and missed the education of a lifetime, not to mention never meeting the man who would become my husband five years later. He’s grateful to her, too!
Friends, whatever your season or life circumstances, there are younger men and women who need you, too. Please don’t let the word “mentor” intimidate you. Like my RA Debbie, you need only to listen, pray, and love unconditionally.
And most important of all? Leave your door open.
You just may be surprised who will walk through.
~Maggie Wallem Rowe, 2025
IT’S YOUR TURN. Is there a spiritual mom or dad you wish you could still thank in person? Please take a moment to tell us about them.
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